Thursday, November 28, 2013

Today
I sit down to check the network, and the first person that appears in
the screen on my iphone is a classmate from middle school. She extends an
invitation to be my friend on facebook. My head is full of ghosts and
writhe all those memories of my black Saturday. The looks of the
people on Monday when I returned to school, especially the comments.
I had several friends in 9th grade. All except that, came to sit
beside me. They did not say much, what could they say. Today she sent
me an invitation on Facebook. What would she want to talk about 20
years later?

In
my culture it is believed in spirits, wandering souls and in all
kinds of syncretic cults. Of which unfortunately most of us are
victims, because a few people take advantage of the fear of others to
make money. According to those people, in Cuba ghosts walk the
streets naked, with clothing, in cars pulled by their ghosts horses.
They look at us while we sleep or make love. They sit at the table to
watch us eat or study. I would like to see them as they see us.
Actually, I have no time for that, as they have all the time in the
world, and they are bored. The much promised Heaven is not made for
Cuban ghosts.

My
classmate, who used to sit with me in class, who now wants to be my
friend on Facebook, told me one of my sad afternoons. "Sorry,
but my mom wont let me go to study with you, because she says that
when someone dies in a house the spirit remains there wandering and
annoys people who comes to visit". I have a reputation for
having an answer for everything and never staying quiet, but I was
speechless. For a long time I pondered the reasoning of her mom and
the tenacity of my classmate for telling me. Today, looking at the
invitation on facebook, I found myself worried. I prefer my ghosts to
hang about me and not to stay at the site where they died. Are they
going to like the new owners? Will I be missed ?